


Blinding Lights

by 655321



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drabbles, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/655321/pseuds/655321
Summary: No one called him Victor but Roman. Even to himself, in his internal monologue, he was only Zsasz. Taking care of Roman, keeping him happy - it was as close to love as he would ever get.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 13
Kudos: 235





	Blinding Lights

**Author's Note:**

> okay I blame this entirely on the Weeknd. I had to expel these gay disasters from my system and I wrote most of this half-awake  
> hopefully this is the last I'll be writing of these useless sadistic gays XD  
> and as per usual I made a freaking playlist lol  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3M3OSFt5PLEY68dzFpDUJd?si=GqPSG3FqS1aAAEdZ6TjmUg

Roman was swinging hard this morning, one minute chittering excitedly about a new bauble and the next raving over the slightest inconvenience. It excited Zsasz when he could harness and direct it. But right now there was no one he could sic Roman on, so he would have to see to the situation himself. Despite himself, he liked this. Late morning breakfast with Roman. Maybe they’d go back to bed. Maybe a quickie before the day’s business. _On the way_ to - and _again_ after the day’s business, if it got bloody. He could breathe in Roman’s ear everything that cycled in his brain and Roman would look at him like his darkest thoughts were _genius._

He stepped behind Roman's chair and dropped his hands to his lover's shoulders. He clenched at the muscles perfunctorily at first, like a coach. Then Roman reached to touch one of his hands, and tilted his face to peer up at him. And he smiled, they both did. The moment was too soft. He didn't like it. It started to hurt. Blades didn't hurt, pain didn't hurt. This was the pain. Because it wasn't real, it was effervescent and fickle. Like Roman. Moments like this didn't come to Roman. He chased them, and they ran. Victor didn't run from him. 

No one called him Victor but Roman. Even to himself, in his internal monologue, he was only Zsasz. He was no henchman. Taking orders didn't suit him. Roman's moods could leave him exhausted, resentful even. But he made the choice to stay. For Roman, to protect him. Roman needed him. It wasn’t something he’d ever wanted, but it made him feel normal in a way he’d never imagined. Taking care of Roman, keeping him happy - it was as close to paternity as Zsasz would ever get. As close to _love_ as he would ever get.

Roman _glowed_ , so vividly alive that it scared Zsasz at first. It was why he had saved Roman’s life. If anyone was going to snuff out that light, it would be Zsasz himself. Now he hoarded Roman, dancing around him like a dog on a tether. _Mine, mine, mine._ Zsasz could get high on it. A world like an endless sea of walking corpses, but he had captured this light. He'd put it in his pocket, he would keep it safe - not because it had value, but because it was _his_.

Roman took him back a lifetime. Back to silk sheets and bespoke suits. Night drives in fancy cars. Parties every night. He didn't hate it. But he wasn't attached to it, like Roman was. But he’d give up this sad existence for the way Roman looked spread out over an opulent velvet chaise. The way Roman looked at him, he’d have done anything for it. He’d follow that glow until it blinded him.

-

"Victor, are you listening?"

Roman had lost him talking about cars and shopping and somethingsomethingsomething--

Zsasz was thinking he needed a new mark, he was itching -

Zsasz was thinking about the delicate feeling of skin layers peeling - 

"Mr. Zsasz."

His eyes came back, flitted to Roman. "Yes?"

"I don't like it when you ignore me."

"I wasn't ig-"

"Don't lie to me," he growled and stood from the table. "I know your face."

"I'm sorry, baby."

That always did it. _Baby._ Roman tried to pretend like it didn't work. He stalked toward him and Zsasz knew what was coming. He scoffed smugly. _He would be, soon enough._

He pushed his seat back from the table, giving Roman the space to straddle him. He didn't need to wait. He pulled Roman's lips to his, roughly, biting, growling. His hands squeezed Roman's ass and encouraged the way he was grinding them together. He let Roman devour him; that was what he needed. Roman needed someone here, to ground him, to remind him what he needed to do.

And when Roman was practically dry-fucking himself on Zsasz anyway, he only had to tell him, “turn around.”

He shoved plates of half-eaten breakfast out of his way and laid himself out on the table instead. He purred while Zsasz ate his ass. Cursed and groaned with "Victor" on his lips, face against the table, and reached back to hold himself open. 

"Fuck, you look good."

Zsasz spread him open, buried his face between his ass cheeks. Roman's dick was leaking on the table and he was getting louder. His ass wiggled against Zsasz's face, wanting more of his tongue, feeling the rasp of stubble against his taint. Zsasz was ready to hold him down and use him like a toy. But he wouldn't. He growled and sat back.

"Come 'ere and fuck me, baby, you got all my attention."

Roman turned and dropped himself into Zsasz's lap, taking his dick immediately. 

"Oh yeah," Zsasz hissed, threw his head back. 

Roman braced himself on the chair and rode Zsasz until all the bratty resentment drained out of him. 

"You love that cock, huh, baby?"

Roman only bit his own lip, gave Zsasz his subby eyes, and moved his anchor hand from the chair to Zsasz's shoulder. He moved his hands to support Roman, holding his ass open, his legs spread wide and cradled in Zsasz's arms. Now he could flex to lift Roman a few inches, drop him back down the length of his dick. Again he lifted, dropped him, and again. Roman moaned like a girl - _no, even better_ \- sinking onto his lover's full length over and over. His cock bounced wetly against Zsasz's stomach.

"You want this nut inside you, babe?" Zsasz growled and it gave Roman a pleasant shiver.

He really wanted only to nod and whine and cling to Victor but he just kept rocking against him and managed, "Fuck yeah, I want it," in a low, strained tone that gave Zsasz goosebumps. He clamped a hand to Roman's hip and let him shudder and writhe in his lap. 

"Fuck, Roman," Zsasz groaned, his hips bucking with just as little rythym. "You look so fucking good taking my dick, baby."

"Please -" Roman gasped, desperate.

Zsasz hauled him up and let him lean back on the table. He held Roman hard enough to bruise. He stood - legs spread, knees bent - and set to pounding into him with such a brutal pace that Roman couldn't control his wailing. Zsasz chased the sharp slap of their skin, holding his lover wide open. 

"Fuck, fuck -" Roman chanted when he had enough breath in his lungs between the moans Zsasz tore out of him. So deep, brutally hard, and Zsasz held him open by his thighs. God, he loved being used. He loved Zsasz's feral fucking; nothing else made him feel wanted like that. 

"You gonna come with me, baby?" Zsasz was stroking his cock a little _too_ fast but it didn't matter.

"Yeah, Yeah -" Roman took up a new chant while Zsasz jerked him and pounded even faster.

"Fuck -" Zsasz's body bucked wildly as he pumped his load in Roman's ass. 

Roman sobbed beautifully when he felt it bloom hot inside him and Zsasz's rough hand brought him to spilling over his own stomach. It was enough to make Zsasz want to rough him up - slap him around, tie him up, use him like a toy - 

But he only pulled Roman close and kissed him, open, wet, mostly tongue. Roman's slack mouth received him and tried to catch his lips. Zsasz fell back into the chair and pulled Roman onto his lap.

"Is that what you wanted, baby?" he asked, breath still uneven.

"Yes." Roman looked pleased with himself through the fatigue.

"You could have just asked," Zsasz drawled, jovial.

They both laughed. Roman's eyes drooped contentedly. There would be some quiet before the next storm.

"You know I never ask."


End file.
